


Ti Prometto Che Ti Proteggerò

by baking_breadjamin



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Festival di Sanremo RPF
Genre: Ancient Greece AU, Angst, Ermal is a peasant because we love him but he manages to get on everyone's shit list, Fluff, Greek God!Fabrizio, Greek god au, Idiots in Love, M/M, MetaMoro, Shady Prophecies and Asshole Gods, Wholly Inaccurate, adding tags/warnings/characters as we go, ft. fabrizio "let me show you a magic trick" moro and ermal "haven't slept since 1997 BCE" meta, i played too much ac: odyssey, italian names in ancient greece because why not, probably not a slow burn, sad flute noises
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-16 09:12:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17546831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baking_breadjamin/pseuds/baking_breadjamin
Summary: A god searches for one voice among millions and instead finds something more divine than his very being: the fire that quickly sparks between him and a wild-haired mortal singing to the heavens. A fire that risks being extinguished by the iron fist of Olympus.





	1. First Night

There was a place in the sky where the commotion of the mortal world could be overheard. Sometimes a crafty inventor was calling a gathering to unveil their newest genius creation to a public of people impressed or dismissive. Sometimes a leader was threatening war and spilling the blood of their enemies with warriors shouting battle cries for the sake of their nation. Sometimes a mother was crying for having just birthed such a beautiful, blessed child. The god found himself here at this place in the sky, listening in. 

One night, he happened to catch a song. The middle of the night, when it was quieter. A beautiful voice drifting up to the clouds. He stayed for the entire duration, and even after it was over he felt he was in a trance. The god returned the next night to play the harp when the voice began, accompanying the voice though they did not know. Then he would return the next night, and the next, to play every night that the voice woke up. The god couldn’t explain it. However...

He fell in love with the voice. There was not much of another way to put the connection the god felt. The way this voice sang, its words weaved together like the most beautiful and delicate tapestry. The way this voice was like the sweetest honey to his ears, candies they grew addicted to. The way this voice was, simply, true music.And he wasn't even quite sure where it was.

He had to follow it.

At night the god would come down to the earth in pursuit of the voice that often consumed his thoughts, the voice with those messages he felt in his bones, those words he felt in his chest, those feelings he never remembered feeling much before, if ever, which shook the divine being.

Until the god found himself one night on a little street lined with houses, when he heard it. Just there, right up there, on the roof. Singing. The words wrapped around his feet, rooting them to the ground as he listened the entire way through. A melody about changing the stars and of magic stones danced through the darkness.

He could move only when the voice finished its song, and even then he had to wait a few moments while he absorbed it all. There was no way to describe the effect it had. It was right there. What he'd been looking for, it was right here.

He took quiet steps rounding the home, to find the figure sitting on the edge of the flat roof, not quite in the right angle for the moon’s light to expose them, but the god didn’t much care for this tidbit of information. He didn’t care if this voice belonged to a person forever in mask and shroud.

The god lightly knocked on the house’s wall and noticed the figure react from the sudden sound. It wasn’t out of place: most were sleeping.

“Hello?” The god could hardly believe he heard it in front of him. No, he couldn’t believe it. They looked over, the light now catching some of their hair, and quite crazy hair at that.

“Hi,” responded the god. “Sorry if I startled you there.”

The god had not quite planned this encounter out. He knew he wanted to meet this voice, but he never quite thought past that. Perhaps it was a trait of his to run heart-first towards his goals without looking much ahead or much back. And all godly charisma aside, the god was not the most accustomed to speaking to mortals when it came to interrupting strangers in the middle of the night because he couldn’t stop listening to their songs that reached the sky. Gods still have the capacity to be socially anxious, they just don’t say anything because they’re gods. Or perhaps it was just a trait of his.

“I heard you singing,” the god continued, “and I’m certain not even the gods could replicate such a voice. Frankly it left me speechless.”

He could practically feel the bashfulness radiating off the other as they spoke, “Oh...Why, thank you. It’s nothing really.” The god asked himself how the mortal could say such a thing when their songs had hopelessly charmed a god and sent him on a search for them, but he realized the mortal was likely not aware of this.

“Nonsense, not many are gifted with such.”

“Everyone is gifted with a voice, it’s simply how you choose to use it.”

“How do you choose to use yours?”

“It’s for whoever needs it.”

The god couldn’t help but smile. Something inside told them that there was more to this. That he wasn’t a simple fool enamored by the tone of their voice. No, there was something _more._

The mortal’s voice tore him from his thoughts. “As for you?”

“I suppose I use it to show others that they can use their own.” The answer didn’t seem so hard. If there was anything the god found himself doing it was always encouraging the others. Encouraging to speak up.

“Would you like to walk with me?”

The mortal chuckled, but afterwards he saw them drop onto the ground and stand. It wasn’t a long fall, the house was only a single story, easy to make the drop as long as you weren’t feeble or an idiot who didn’t bend their knees.

When the mortal turned around, he could finally see roughly how they looked in the moon’s light. He could see the dark eyes and pale cheeks framed by the wild hair making a strong reappearance. Before he wasn’t sure even with the voice the gender of the mortal, he’d seen masculine-voiced women and feminine-sounding men enough to stop making assumptions. Plus, it did not matter to him. However he believed he had enough to say that the mortal was certainly male, and he certainly had a ranging voice. He heard a couple times the man had sung falsetto, which at some points was honestly so appealing it confused him.

Above all, his thin lips curled into a smile, one that accepted the offer without words. 

“I didn’t think you would accept,” admitted the god.

“I guess you’re lucky on who you decide to ask, then. Sometimes I walk around when I can’t sleep, anyways.”

“You have trouble sleeping often?”

The other just shrugged. “My heads always running, what can I do except spend the time I get? Plus, the seaside at night? The greatest sight, truly.”

The two had begun walking on the path, down the line of homes and buildings. And the moonlight must had now caught the god, because when he turned to the mortal he seemed to be observing his face. When he realized he was caught staring, he looked away quickly, and the god tried not to chuckle.

The path continued and the two struck up conversation, which more or less bounced off the subject of music, from how the mortal sometimes got some drachmae by singing a song to the small harp strapped to the back of the god, which even in the low light seemed to be taken very good care of, and it was. The god wasn't one to have many close possessions, but his harp was the true exception.

“You play often?”

“Every day. Sometimes I have a lot of time alone to spend, and I don't like it when it's so quiet. The music fills it up. It frees me.”

Before either of them knew it they walked far enough that the buildings ended somewhere behind them and the path led them into the fields and the long grass that rose past the dirt walkway. Far ahead there was an area that got rocky, the god knew exactly where they were.

“How does the shoreline sound?”

“Fantastic.”

They began to veer off the path where the grass was shorter. The god had to admire how the other moved with a natural grace the entire way. Perhaps he'd taken this way towards the shoreline enough times.

The two were greeted by the sea stretching for miles under the moon, but not quite able to reach the rocks and land past the sand. A breeze swept through, and the mortal raised his arms from his side and looked to the god, smiling.

“I'm still not quite sure why it is you've come with me all the way here.”

“You know,” said the mortal, “some oracle told me that the gods would come down, and a door would open for me. She told me I’d know when the time is right, I’d just have to choose whether I’d step through it or not. So I say, why not?”

“An oracle?”

“Yes, the nice lady at the temple offered a reading for only a couple drachmae. Do you suppose after this I’ll have to pay her a couple more to find out what’s next?”

“I'd suppose that after this I'd have to slip her some drachmae too for one.”

The mortal seemed to dig his feet in the sand for a bit before looking up. “I'm still not sure why it is that you wanted to walk with me of all people in the middle of the night. I don't think I've ever seen your face around here, so if you're not from here it's even stranger, no offense."

“None taken, I was just travelling through, really, until I heard you." Was it such a lie, though? He was travelling, but he had also been travelling for this person for who knew how long. "I'm not sure what it was myself. I tend to do things without thinking, call it a gut feeling or stupid thought. But what's life if you're not just following gut feelings and stupid thoughts?”

The mortal chuckled with a bright smile, and the god could feel a strange feeling in his chest, one he couldn't explain, but he wanted to feel it again. “Perhaps then you’re not truly living, but following so-called stupid thoughts led to a nice trip to the beach, so I'm not complaining at all.”

“I'm glad.” The god couldn't help but smile in return. “Say, this might sound a bit silly but—” He slipped his harp from his back and held it in his hands. “—Care for a bit of music?”

The other's eyes lit up. “Of course, it's not silly at all.”

So the two sat on the rocks, continuing to converse as the god plucked soft melodies on his harp. Sometimes the god would play a certain tune, then the other would recognize it and sing a bit, then the god would join in and they'd sing together with only the sea as a witness to their little moments.

The feeling in the god's chest returned whenever his wild-haired companion laughed, whenever he sang, whenever he smiled, whenever they seemed to make music with magic harmony, and still the god was stumped on what to think of it: he was too transfixed on that face.

The next time the god looked up, the sun began to creep on the horizon until the slightest sliver of it rose above it. _Too_ transfixed on that face, perhaps.

“I hope you weren't planning earlier on trying to catch a nap before the sunrise.”

“Ah, it's fine, I've made it through enough sleepless days...But maybe I should go.” He stood up on the rock. “This was...This was fun, really. Wonderful. Thank you.”

“No,” said the god, “I should be thanking you. I just have to ask, I feel stupid for not asking before. What's your name?”

The mortal seemed to try and hold in his laughter at first, but the attempt failed and spilled over, and the god joined in. How ridiculous of them, to talk to one another for hours until the sunrise without even asking for their names! Ridiculous!

“My name is Ermal,” The mortal responded.

 _“Ermal,”_ the god tested the name on his tongue. In all his time, had he ever uttered such a name? Even if once, he did not remember it, so this was new. Actually, there was a lot of new in those past few hours. He liked it.

The god smiled, his tongue was fond of how the new name rolled off it. “I'm Fabrizio.”

 _“Fabrizio,”_ Ermal repeated, seemingly testing it on his tongue as the other had too. “Hello there.”

Fabrizio chuckled. “Hello there, Ermal.”

Then the thought came to him. This man was mortal, the sun was up, he probably had some duties to attend soon if not now. God or not, he had no business keeping someone else from their own business!

“Actually, let me take you home.” He took Ermal by the hand and he raised a brow that many would say did not seem to have been very blessed by the gods, which Fabrizio wouldn’t agree if you asked him, because why would the gods care about blessing eyebrows?

He probably should’ve mentioned that they wouldn’t be walking back to his home, but rather taking a more _divine_ route. Ermal would only have to blink his eyes to find himself and the other standing on the spot behind his house where they first met. Understandably, Ermal looked lost when he realized it. Maybe Fabrizio should’ve mentioned something, he thought when Ermal looked up at him, and maybe it was easier to see the gold in his eyes from the way he looked at him.

“I probably should’ve given you a heads up.”

Ermal thought, mouth slightly agape, no doubt trying to gather his words, having to pull them back to shore from the ocean in his mind. “I can’t tell if that would leave me more or less confused...What was that? We just--Are you...” Ok, now he was starting to feel a bit bad.

“Am I?”

“You can’t be.”

“Can’t be?”

Ermal shook his head, “Nevermind, it’s just a tired thought. Sleep must be catching up.”

“Then would you like to talk again sometime?”

That sudden silence intimidated Fabrizio. He did not want to have to hear Ermal say no, but if he did, he would leave him alone. He had respect for mortals, unlike some others. He didn't ask for or expect much, just another chance to talk to him again.

“Of course! I mean--It was a wonderful night.”

Fabrizio let out a relieved sigh and then a bright smile. “I’m glad, truly. It was a wonderful night indeed. Perhaps you’re scheduling another sleepless night for the near future?”

Ermal’s eyes seemed to widen, and it took Fabrizio himself a second to realize what he said, and he wouldn’t confirm nor deny if gods could blush. Then, the mortal smirked. “Perhaps I am. Tonight?”

This made it harder to _not_ confirm or deny whether gods could blush, just thinking of the implication of that response. That was something to dwell over later.

“Won’t you be tired?“

“I’ll find the time to sleep before or after.”

“Alright. Then I should be off. I’ll see you soon.” It was only now that he realized he never let go of Ermal's hand, nor did he pull away, considering his grip was quite relaxed. Fabrizio let go and gave a wave, beginning to turn. Where, he wasn’t sure. There was nothing big for a few days. He could walk around this village some more, maybe jump around the land and observe the mortal world more, maybe just return to the sky and play his harp...

“Wait,” Ermal stopped him.

Fabrizio turned around to look at Ermal, and the more the sun revealed him the more captivating he looked. His eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his lips, his chin...

“I owe you a silly question in return for earlier, but it's actually silly.”

“What is it?”

“Are you a god?”

“Do you believe I am a god?” asked the god.

“I’m not saying that, but...” Ermal trailed off. He looked into Fabrizio’s eyes, searching for that answer. Maybe it was in the golden eyes. Or did he believe, but couldn't find it in him to say it out loud? As much as Fabrizio spent his time around mortals more than some of the others, he didn't quite understand them sometimes. "Something about all this seems like there's something...divine to it."

Fabrizio smiled, “Maybe you should go ask that nice oracle lady and tip her a couple more drachmae.”

“Maybe I will...Take care then, Fabrizio.”

“Take care, Ermal.” And Fabrizio disappeared, he'd decided to just return to the sky.

Fabrizio couldn’t explain how he felt when he left. He was excited, more excited than he’d ever felt, getting to see Ermal again, so much he needed to return to the sky for breath. When had he ever felt like this with anyone? He couldn't recall a time. Yet he was anxious. And every little complication of having such interest in a mortal slipped his mind: he pushed them outside and shut the door. He felt bad for confusing Ermal with that whole half-panicked magical transport thing back to his house, though a part of him said that it was certainly fun to play around with him a bit. What an asshole that part was. Should he have flat-out told him he was a god? No, that's how mortals freaked out and lost their heads. He did it for the best.

But besides this, it seemed to be going well. He was going to meet him again. They could talk all night over the waves, singing and playing and joking and discussing. Perhaps he could tell him that he's an actual god without him freaking out. Perhaps he could show him the sky.

And Fabrizio realized he fell hard. Yes, in such short time he must've fallen into the Underworld for Ermal.


	2. A Kind Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ermal has a strange experience before his next meeting with Fabrizio when he finds himself walking towards the temple. Also: Slaps upside the head.

Ermal blinked, and he was gone.

This morning, he felt...empty. He wasn't sure what to do next. He'd been standing in the same spot Fabrizio had brought him to a few minutes ago, thinking over everything that had happened in the past few hours, getting everything in order and wondering if it really happened at all.

He was sitting on his roof, singing. It passed the time, opened himself up, let him express himself in the dead of night when the world was sleep, when the world couldn't touch him.

Then Fabrizio arrived, and they walked to the seaside, doing whatever came to their mind, whether it was discussing how ridiculous the current rubbish politics were, music, or just making fun of the world.

When Fabrizio first gave his name, he thought he saw something in his eyes, something golden, and just about everyone and their grandmothers knew what the sign meant.

Then he had to only blink to find himself back behind his house when Fabrizio took his hand. And for sure, he could see that his eyes were golden.

So beautiful. So confusing.

And then he disappeared. Had he just dreamed it all? But he was awake. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been real...but the talk, the music, the eyes, they were real! They must have all been real! Or did he just wish it was real because he felt strange happenings in his chest simply from thinking about a second night with Fabrizio?

The strange transportation, the disappearing, the golden eyes, the mystery shrouding this Fabrizio, it was as if he was something else entirely.

A god.

But he would be just as mad as the old men on the streets in their robes preaching how Zeus came to them and delivered some end-of-world prophecy. Even with all he heard he wouldn't believe that the gods would actually come down to the earth. Even then, why would a god visit *him?* Of all people in this world, there was nothing special to him. He was just a simple man who lived his life, nothing more. And sure, maybe he liked to try and live his own way the best he could and do as he pleased and help who he could, but was he not still just one in a sea of thousands? Millions?

Ermal ran a hand through his hair and took several deep breaths. Perhaps he could catch a nap. If he overslept, surely one of his friends would come yelling and wake him up, as he never missed anything without a reason (which granted him a good scolding by all his friends the one time he slept in so late he missed the entire event they were supposed to be at). Once everything was quiet he quickly realized how tired he really was, and he was too tired to realize if he had to be somewhere this morning.

"Ermal, you actual bitch. If you don't get up this instant I'm going to drag Andrea here, and you won't like it when he brings his flute."

And that's how he could explain himself being awakened by this kind message, courtesy of his good friend.

Ermal groaned and delivered his good friend a kind message in return: "Fuck off, Marco, I'm getting up." He was a man who stuck to his word, so he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Shit! That play is today, isn't it?"

"Yes. You're lucky you're not too late. Come on, up up!" Marco clapped his hands. "Get your robes, find a snack, something. It shouldn't be too far in when we get there."

"Give me a second, I think I was up until sunrise but I'm not even sure about that."

"Until _sunrise_?" Marco's brows raised. "You have a story to go with this? The gods give you an excuse?"

Well, perhaps the gods did give him a reason to stay up. "I might have a story, but that's for later."

Ermal finally stood up and yawned, stretching a bit. Marco left to wait outside while Ermal changed into his robes and joined him outside his door, where they then hurried their way to the theater. He didn't have much time to think about anything else except how much of the performance he might've missed so far. Not like he didn't have a lot of time, this was a longer performance.

He could hear the voices from the large, open-air theater even from far away, it had been built so well to carry the actors' voices throughout the stadium. It had already started, and he cursed to himself. Well, it's not like no one was ever late, there was once a chorus member who didn't arrive until halfway through every performance yet was still good enough that he wouldn't be laid off for a while.

At the very least, he was able to enter the back building, dress accordingly, and find his opportunity to join the rest in time to sing a next piece, standing in his spot and sometimes moving and dancing around and across the stage, blending in soon after the awkwardly late entrance even if Marco was there too.

Actually, soon enough he was able to only clear his mind and perform. He needed no thoughts of last night invading his mind, no matter how much they wanted to in desperation for some answers, nor did he need to feel just how tired he was since waking up. Moving and singing as if any moment he'd be lifted in the air was enough to distract him, the reactions of the audience were enough to give him the energy to live.

The play itself helped, it was one of his favorites. It seemed to have a bit of everything: Lots of drama, burning almost to the point of absurdity. A tragedy, certainly, by the end, but enough comedy to keep the audience going through. It was a full circle. If you asked him, he would say it made fun of the common man, woman, and even the gods as they brought the mortal characters into their own quarrels. 

At the end of the act, when everyone returned to the back building for an intermission and to change costumes as needed, Ermal regrouped with his friends and received a warm greeting: a sharp smack upside the back of his head.

 _"Ah!_ Nice to see you, too!”

Andrea emerged from behind him with a smile. Actually, he probably had slapped their entire group at least five times for being late, even himself. It was a routine no one really minded, especially Andrea.

“Glad to see you’re back from the dead, what was it?” Dino chipped in.

“Long night.”

“He told me he didn’t sleep until sunrise.”

A scandalized gasp and matching dramatic pose from Andrea. The man would be perfect as an actor in a drama. “Ermal! But who were you doing?”

 _“Who?_ It was not like that, we didn't do anything!” The groups eyes were now glued on Ermal, who rolled his own. He could see their eyes begged for clarification, and it looked that not even Andrea actually expected something to come out of that little joke. “I swear to the gods, nothing happened.”

“C’mon, who was it?”

“I’m...not sure who he was.”

“Ermal, you sly bastard, meeting with strange men in the dead of night!”

“Right, now let all of Greece hear that, Andrea.”

“You still love me, though.”

“Uhuh.”

Before the conversation could be too focused on Ermal’s long night, the intermission ended, and again they were out in front of the audience, continuing the story as Apollo and Zeus took the platform..

"What do you think of that mortal man?" Hermes, an actor notably shorter, looked up to the actor of Zeus.

"Bugger," Zeus crossed his arms. A snicker from the audience.

"How about the woman?"

"Bugger."

"Really? Then how about me?"

"Bugger."

An exaggerated expression from Apollo. The audience laughed at his silent offense and he continued. "The other gods?"

Zeus threw his hands in the air. "Buggers, all of them, I say! _Buggers!"_

A roar from all the buggers!

In the following intermissions, the gang seemed to give up interrogating Ermal for the time being. Ermal was glad for this: it gave more time for distasteful jokes followed by a prolonged and sad note from Andrea’s flute or some disappointed tongue clicks from Dino when it didn’t necessarily summon the laughter it intended to get. Ermal thought these reactions would actually be a nice addition to the play: they never got old.

When the play ended, it was already noon. They got their shares of drachmae, were informed on the next time to be there, tomorrow, and left together. A lot of the times, whoever would have nowhere else they needed to go to for the time being would keep walking around town and talking and messing around or eat lunch somewhere. They had lunch at Marco's. but afterwards Ermal had stood up.

“I should get home. I’m exhausted.”

Marco looked to him. “You sleep now and you’ll be up all night.”

“...Yea?”

“I bet he’s gonna meet up with that mystery man again. Or is it a different one? Or is it multip—” A light slap to the back of the head cut off Andrea. "Hey!"

“It’s nothing! If anything we’ll just walk and talk again.” Ermal had emitted details, like how they rested in front of the crashing waves, singing, laughing, snickering. How it became much more _profound_ than walking and talking.

“So you are meeting him again?”

“Look, I'm not even sure. Can I go sleep? Thanks.”

"Just make a run for it while you can," interjected Roberto, patting his shoulder.

Andrea groaned. “Fine. You know, I’d say ‘gods smile on you’ but I don’t think the gods want to see that.”

“Andrea!”

After that, Ermal was finally off to home, perhaps he could catch some sleep before tonight.

Tonight! What would he even do tonight? Another night of talking and playing music, sitting by the sea, with a man he wasn’t even sure was mortal or, for that matter, real? God, now that he had the time to think he was so confused.

He had so many questions. Why could he so easily become so wound-up over this man? He knew nothing, yet a single night revealed so much about him. How he taught himself the harp, how he described how music opened him up like a book, how he liked his bread. Only a single night! He was going mad.

However, his thoughts were interrupted when he found a familiar place in his view, a temple. He'd been here before, yes, just yesterday. Perhaps his feet had walked without the rest of him, as he stepped into the temple, last night's exchange echoing in his head.

_“Maybe you should go ask that nice oracle lady and tip her a couple more drachmae.”_

_“Maybe I will."_

He wasn't sure how to describe the temple, except that it gave him a peaceful vibe. It was lit by many candles, and he felt welcomed by them as if they were lit by Hestia. The light was caught by the columns at the corners that carried it to the roof to illuminate the murals and patterns on each of the four walls. Compared to outside the doors, where the world mixed together into the constant noise of commuting, there was only the whispers of the candles to grace the ears.

The oracle, an elderly woman in the temple with bright robes, greeted Ermal with her eyes. "Oh, what a nice surprise. Hello." The oracle smiled, her eyes seemingly lighting up at the sight of the returning visitor. "I trust you were not disappointed, or?"

"Not in the slightest. I was uhm...actually coming for another insight."

Her brows furrowed. "So soon? You don't seem like one who visits everyday."

"Yes," Ermal nodded. "Well, it's just that I believe what you predicted just happened so quickly, quicker than I would think." 

Ermal fished out a couple of the drachmae he had been paid from the play earlier that day, and set it in a basket near the oracle. The proceeds mostly went to the temple itself and charity.

"Gods smile upon your charity." The oracle approached Ermal with a smile. "Now, let us see." He lifted his hand to allow her to take it, resting her palm on top of the other's and closing her eyes. The next moments were silent, until her face changed and she spoke with a light smile.

"When words fail, music will speak."

The smile disappeared as her face tightened. "Hang on..." The manner in which her mouth opened concerned him, as it was as if she was reluctant.

"You will anger the sky."

There was an uncomfortable silence following the cryptic line, but Ermal stayed silent so as not to interrupt the oracle. There was no point in questioning right now, as if there would be clear answers behind the readings.

"Not even the sea will be able to protect you, but death will be with you."

The mere thought of speaking knotted up in the back of his drying throat.

The oracle's eyes shot open and removed her hand which had begun to sweat and shake. Ermal was afraid to read her eyes. They looked at him with something...Something that was hard to understand. He wasn't sure if he should've been glad he couldn't see what those eyes saw.

Unlike his visit yesterday, she remained quiet. It was not like it was easy to fill the strangling silence.

"I...Thank you."

"Of...Of course."

He dropped one last drachma into the basket as a tip and left.

That was so...strange. He felt disconnected as he walked off from the temple. Was it the words? Was it the eyes of the oracle, almost horrified? Was it the following silence, where neither could seem to speak?

He would repeat the last lines under his breath as he walked home. Maybe if he said them out loud, an answer would magically come to him. However, this was not the case.

_You will anger the sky. Not even the sea will be able to protect you, but death be with you._

He just needed to rest. He'd go mad if he kept thinking. Perhaps he shouldn't have walked in.

Ermal reached his home and collapsed in his bed. Yes, he could rest it away. He had a decent amount of time to sleep.

As tired as he felt, he would toss and turn and wake up after fragments of sleep, as his mind was a blinding sun that did not want to set. And, unlike his mind, the sun outside had begun to set, unbeknownst to him.

Until he heard several knocks on his wall, which shook him fully awake.

He stood up to investigate, initially a bit wobbly on his feet. It came from outside, from what seemed to be the back. Realizing this, he made his way outside, where the sun was still making its journey under the horizon, and where when he turned the corner to the back of his home he found a familiar figure.

“Fabrizio,” Ermal greeted quietly.

“Ermal,” Fabrizio greeted back.

He wasn’t sure how to process this. So he was real, and this wasn’t a one-time appearance. Ermal smiled bright at that. He took some steps forward until he was inches away from Fabrizio and let his fingers touch a spot on his arm, feeling the warmth under his fingertips.

“You see, this entire day I wasn’t sure if you were real or not,” his thoughts left his mouth before he could realize it. “Actually, I don’t know if I’m sure anyways.” Surely, he could not have those beautiful eyes looking at him at this very moment.

Fabrizio smiled. “Here I am.” His eyes seemed to scan over his face, then they were crossed with concern. “Did you sleep? You have darker eyes than Hades himself.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ermal waved off the mere minutes of deep sleep he caught, no more than an hour in total, as he yawned and rubbed his tired eyes. “It’s nothing.”

“Please, if you stay up any longer you’ll feel like death.”

 _Death be with you._ Ermal’s breaths sharpened. Did that mean anything? Surely not, not every mention of the world meant something. If he thought like that, he would certainly go crazy.

“Are you alright?”

“Y-yea, I’m fine," Ermal nodded. He was, in fact, fine, really. He was just having distracting thoughts. It was normal. "I just had an odd day.” 

He finally realized his fingertips were still on Fabrizio's arm, and he slowly retracted them away, although a part of him didn't think it would be so bad to let the rest of his hand feel the warm skin, perhaps explore it.

Ermal shook his head. "How are you doing?"

"Amazingly." Fabrizio smiled and Ermal already hated him. He didn't want him to stop smiling even while he felt so exhausted. However, his smile slowly faded. "But...Have you really not slept?"

"I have," Ermal lied. Fabrizio gave him a look, and he hastily added, "A little bit."

"You mind if I..." His jaw seemed to tighten in thought until Fabrizio gestured to his house. "Could I perhaps come in?"

"Sure, of course!" Ermal responded, albeit a bit delayed, and it was definitely not due to his exhaustion.

Almost absentmindedly, he took Fabrizio's wrist and led him inside his house. It was only one room, so there was not much to it. Certainly, it was nowhere near as magnificent as the rocks the sea splashed on. Yet the other didn't quite seem to mind as his eyes traveled around even in the lower light.

"It's nice in here," Fabrizio spoke as he sat down in a chair by the table. His eyes seemed to fall to a woven rug. "Even the rug is pretty."

"Oh, my mama wove it." Ermal smiled at the thoughts that came now: Getting to watch his mom through the creation process of rugs and tapestries, how focused she was and how she treated her work with the same delicacy as she did her children. The big hug they and his siblings shared when he was moving out of the village was fresh in his mind, and the time his mom gave him the rug. Perhaps he should visit them soon.

"She gave it to me not long after I moved here," Ermal continued. "I could've stayed in the village, but it was small, really small. It's a lovely place but I couldn't live there forever. Plus, she's also got my brother and sister, and I've met some great people here."

When he looked to Fabrizio, he seemed to be listening intently. "You get to visit?"

"Yea, whenever I can. The theater has me a bit busy with the plays and practices, but I find the time to visit."

From there, the conversation moved on to the topic of theater and plays, which ones they were fond of. In fact, they both seemed to be fond of the one Ermal had just sang in that day.

When the stars came, Ermal lit an oil lamp. When he sat back down, he crossed his arms on the table and laid his head on them. He wasn't going to sleep, no, he was simply resting his eyes. 

He barely heard "Ermal, you look like you're about to fall asleep."

Ermal groaned. "I'm resting my eyes,"

"I'm pretty sure I just woke you up."  
"Well I'm not sleeping now, am I?"

Ermal, without lifting his head, watched Fabrizio stand up from his chair and walk over to him, beginning to lift him gently from his chair. "Come on, you're not falling asleep at the table."

"You're not my mom," he retorted and did nothing to help Fabrizio with lifting him up, but much to his chagrin Fabrizio got him up on his feet.

"Then I guess I'm filling in for right now." 

Fabrizio guided him over to his bed to lay down, and Ermal did so, not because he was too tired to really try and resist going to bed, but because he just didn't feel like it. He laid back and got comfortable not to sleep but to get comfortable.

"Come on, I'm not that tired."

"You're literally slurring your words." Fabrizio couldn't help but smile and shake his head. "You're stubborn as Zeus, and that's very difficult to top. Plus, won't you feel better in the morning?"

"Mmmm."  
"I don't know what that's supposed to mean."

"It means mmmm."

Fabrizio laughed. "Okay, you need to sleep."

"Mmmm, I can't, probably." Ermal closed his eyes, but heard Fabrizio's footsteps as he walked to the table and then back and sat down at the edge of the bed.

When he opened his eyes again, Fabrizio was just in the middle of playing the first string on his harp. From here he could see his golden eyes flickering in the warm light of the oil lamp and his fingers handling the harp with delicacy.

Fabrizio paused and looked to Ermal, who only smiled and closed his eyes, letting himself get lost as he continued playing, emitting the softest notes. Each note surrounded him, lulling him, carrying him off into sleep before he knew it.

He didn't know if he imagined the lips that touched his forehead before he drifted into a deep sleep.


	3. Strange Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fabrizio tries to wrap his head around everything and talks to a friend.

Fabrizio hoped that Ermal had already fallen asleep by the time he lightly kissed his forehead.

He normally would not have done such a thing, but when his eyes caught the serene face and curls of the other, the urge was overwhelming...Surely, he could do it just once, to wish him good rest.

So he did so, only slowing his harp music as he leaned down and placed his lips on Ermal’s forehead. 

To wish him good rest.

He continued to play the harp, just soft notes, careful as to not mistakenly play a loud note that wakes up Ermal, as he sat at the edge of Ermal’s bed. Fabrizio felt no need, no urge, no desire to part. He could just sit here and play what he felt. It didn’t matter if the world was asleep, or whether Ermal could hear him or not, although a little part of him wished he would hear what he felt, which was strange for only knowing him for two days.

So Fabrizio closed his eyes and played and played, note after note, minute after minute. Sometimes he would open his eyes to observe Ermal, resting so peacefully, with his dark curls falling over his pale cheeks and closed eyes. Sometimes he would stir in his sleep, and it would catch Fabrizio’s attention, but when it seemed he was still sleeping Fabrizio closed his eyes again.

It had been really strange, these past two days, perhaps even the days before when all he had was a voice. How he'd ended up playing the harp sitting on the bed of a sleeping mortal, he wasn’t sure, but he was content in this moment.

The next time he opened them, he met Ermal’s open and awake eyes, and perhaps he could admit that his face turned scarlet (no, it’s _not_ the same as blushing, that was still impossible) as he was caught. Just how much time had passed? Enough that the other awoke from the sunlight pouring from the window, he gathered. How long had he been awake, listening?

“I’m sorry,” he stopped playing and tried to save himself with haste. Surely, no, certainly he had overstayed his welcome. One might find it ridiculous for a god to worry about doing such a thing in a mortal's home, he had the image of Zeus staying wherever and whenever he damn well pleased, but he wouldn't deny he _was,_ in fact, incredibly ridiculous. “I didn’t see how much time had passed.”

“No, it’s...” Ermal gave him a soft smile which made his chest panic. “It’s nice to wake up to, the music.”

This helped him to calm most of him. If it was nice to wake up to, then it was a good thing? Fabrizio found his own lips forming a light smile. He thought it was nice! His feelings, nice! Nice!

Ermal sat up and, with his tired wandering eyes, continued looking to Fabrizio, who couldn’t help but stare back. Ermal’s brows then furrowed, a realization painting his face.

“Have you been playing all night?”

Fabrizio’s eyes turned away. “Maybe I have."

"And...you haven't slept, then?"

He realized he never gave the subject much thought. No, gods did not sleep, they had no need to. However that didn't mean they couldn't. They could sleep, but it was more like some kind of self-induced trance kind of thing. "I...I don't really sleep."

"So," Ermal pursed his lips, "you tell me to sleep and then proceed to stay up all night."

"I reiterate, I don't sleep."

"Really?"

"Really."

A part of him wished that Ermal could look in his eyes and know that without a doubt Fabrizio was a god that didn't need to sleep, without all the weird "mortal-freak-out" sort of things. However, this proved to still be a situation Fabrizio couldn't quite figure out. 

"This is so unfair," he whined. Fabrizio's mouth opened slightly, but he was unable to think of a response. To his relief, Ermal continued. "I mean, I don’t mind the whole sleeping and waking up to harp music thing, but still unfair. I should be yelling at you to sleep."

"I'm not tired."

"That's what they all say. Is there...nowhere you need to be this morning? Or--"

"Not really." He thought for a moment. "Actually, I should probably check in with someone soon, haven't seen what he's up to." Yes, he really did have someone he needed to check in on, but it wasn't an emergency, so he'd do so when left. Then, he remembered. "Do you have somewhere to be?"

"There's a practice today at the theater, but I think there's still a bit of time beforehand."

A practice at the theater! They had discussed plays the other day, which ones were dramatic to the point of complete absurdity, which ones they liked the depicted gods in, which ones almost made them pee themselves laughing. Yet, Ermal had not mentioned that he worked at the theater. Now he had his full attention and his thoughts. Actor or chorus? Head of chorus? How many ridiculous masks did he have to cover his beautiful face with? Wait—

"Really? What do you do?"

Ermal shrugged his shoulders and smiled, "I'm in the chorus, so I just kind of dance around and sing all day. It's fun though, really, it's amazing, there's not much else I'd want to do. Plus, my best friends are in it too, they even helped me in...They made me feel like I fit in somewhere here, you know? Adjusting isn't the easiest when you just come from some little village, hoping that what you need to do will just fall at your feet." His smile when he spoke about the job, his friends, even the trace of it still apparent afterwards, was so soft, his voice growing even softer. Fabrizio was in absolute awe.

As if it was an instinct, he placed a hand on Ermal's back, patting it. "They must be amazing people."

"The best, really." Ermal nodded his head, and Fabrizio realized he wasn't prepared for him to look back at him. "I remember you said you weren't from here, but you look like you have a better time fitting in. Hell, you got a stranger to stop what he was doing and walk and talk with you."

Fabrizio had to chuckle and shake his head, but then he had to admit the truth. There was something in Ermal's eyes that told him he could say anything. "Maybe, but if I feel like I fit in anywhere, I'm alone. I'm mostly around my family and I'm not really like them. Some of them get so greedy and couldn't care less for how others are. Some are way more fond of gatherings and charming people. Some of them are absolute geniuses. And here I am, just...I'm not sure what I am."

He hadn't noticed his eyes took an interest in the floor or his lap until he saw a white hand graze the skin of his own hand in his view. The contact seemingly hexed his breathing.

"You're you. Should be enough.”

He didn't know quite how to process this, how to react to that. Fabrizio opened his mouth to try and say something, but the words were hiding. The only thought that made it through was to smile instead.

He had a bad idea, and he went with it, as he shifted his hand closer to Ermal’s. The contact felt so...comforting. It was selfish, but he shifted it only a small distance.

Fabrizio felt the air knot up in his throat when Ermal’s hand found itself on top of his.

Maybe it was a bad idea to look up at Ermal after this, because the longer his eyes lingered the harder it was to look away. The god couldn't explain it. Nor could he explain the manner in which the other's eyes roamed his face and kept returning downward to a certain point. 

But it was only one of many bad ideas he had after realizing how close they got in the past couple minutes, though it was nothing compared to how close he felt after only the past couple of days.

He could lean in just a tiny bit, potentially, just to test the water of course, Poseidon probably told him that once anyway. Test the waters. Fabrizio swore Ermal leaned the slightest distance forward, so with caution he began to lean a bit. He could feel the waves shifting.

"Erma— _Oh."_

The other voice came without a warning from the direction of the entrance. Fabrizio’s entire body jumped, Ermal’s too seemingly, and he looked up to see an unfamiliar mortal at the entrance, staring with wide eyes at the two. This was an unfamiliar situation. Which wasn't bad in itself, but he did not like that fact this time.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Well, he had interrupted the moment, interrupted their movements, and interrupted his own thoughts. "Technically, y—”

"No," Ermal interrupted. "Not at all. Nothing's being interrupted. I'm not late, am I? It seems too early."

Nothing’s being interrupted?

"I thought perhaps if I came here earlier you might not be late again, but I see you have something else keeping you awake." Fabrizio swore that this man's eyes shifted just the slightest distance to focus on himself. He didn't know how he felt about that. Slightly intimidated, perhaps under-dressed.

But he didn't have to swear it, because the man waved to him. "Hey there, stranger. Be glad I didn't send someone else here for him. Anyway, are you too busy with mystery man to come or not?"

“I’m coming, give me a minute.”

“Alright,” said the other, and he retreated outside and out of sight.

Ermal looked to him with flushed cheeks, and Fabrizio felt like he was in a cold trance until he broke the new silence. “Sorry, I—I have to go practice.” He stood up from his bed and seemed quick to fetch his other robes.

“No need to be sorry,” Fabrizio stood up, picking up his harp he left with one hand and running his fingers through his hair with the other. “I should go, yea.”

“Wait,” When he next looked to Ermal he was looking back at him with his robes in his arms. “So, uhm, you have any free time soon?”

“I’ve got all the time in the world.” 

“Tonight?”

“Perfect.” A smile crossed his face, and he couldn’t hide it. “I’ll see you then.”

Ermal gave a nod and a smile. “See you.”

Then, Fabrizio found it appropriate to step outside, but he didn’t leave just yet. He was sometimes a proper god but always with proper manners, and he stretched out a hand towards the man leaning by the entrance with folded arms.

“I’m Fabrizio, nice to meet you.”

The other man looked up to meet his eyes, and he couldn’t help but notice something flash in his expression. Was it how his eyes seemed to grow wider, or his mouth opening slightly trying to find the words before he spoke?

He uncrossed his arms to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you too. I’m Marco”

Fabrizio didn’t comment on how articulated Marco’s words sounded, and he smiled before turning and walking away and returning to the sky.

And there he was, in the comfort of his little place in the sky. It was a room: a room that could take any shape, form, and appearance he desired. That was basically it, he didn’t want to get in-depth with explaining it. Right now, in his room, he stood in front of the sea, the moon hanging above him. He would find this scene very familiar, as he only needed to turn around to find the same rock he and Ermal claimed that first night.

Fabrizio sat down in the sand where the water washed up his toes and retracted back into the sea.

He needed a minute for the water to wash away all the thoughts running in his head.

This included the happening from only minutes ago when he was so easily able to open up his soul to Ermal, when his eyes were captured by the dark ones of the other, when he swore they were both leaning into something that sent shivers down his spine and heat throughout his body.

To how many had he voiced his own insecurity, his own uncertainty as to his very being? Certainly, no one he only knew for, what, two days?

How is it that he could feel all these things after a day? No, he felt some things only hours after meeting him. No, he felt many things when he knew only his voice.

Just as Fabrizio was trying to wrap his head around all of it, he heard sandals scraping the wet sand as someone walked up next to him and sat down. He didn’t need to look over or wait for them to speak to know who it was.

“What’s behind the scene this time?”

Fabrizio took a moment to inhale the smell of the sea breeze, but it brought no words to him. “I can’t quite explain it.”

“Really?”

“I’ve met someone here, just a couple days ago. It sounds like nothing, but I’m not quite sure how to explain everything else there is...It’s all something new, Niccolò.”

“I hope you’re not planning to keep all this secret from me for long, then.” Niccolò looked to him with a smirk. “Might this have anything to do with your absence last night, too? And the night before?”

“Possibly.” Fabrizio couldn’t really lie to the demigod, no, not when he was such a good friend, a little brother.

“Who’s it, then?”

“He’s a human that performs in a chorus.”

“Oh,” was his only response at first, and there were chills down Fabrizio’s neck, which was strange considering Niccolò was someone he trusted fully and beyond. He wouldn’t have a problem, Fabrizio was sure of it, but something was still there.

Niccolò smiled and continued. “So you still have your charm, old man.”

“Aò, I’m not that old!” Fabrizio nudged the smaller man with his elbow, and they both chuckled. “Please, if I’m old then Zeus and Poseidon and them are all dust.”

“So, you’ve known someone for a couple days and you’ve changed your room based on them?"

If there was one thing to love about the boy, it was how perceptive he was. He of all people would know that the appearance of his room always meant something. Sometimes it was a tiny room with little to no light, meaning that Fabrizio needed time to get the dark thoughts out of his head. Sometimes it was on a boat because he’d had a wonderful meeting with Poseidon which usually gave him an appreciation for the sea. Sometimes it was in a field to remember a legendary battle.

“I suppose I did. I don’t understand it.” Fabrizio trailed off, and the god couldn’t find the words.

“By ‘it,’ might you mean ‘him?’”

He paused. Damn Niccolò’s sharp, seemingly all-knowing mind.

“Partially, yes. I...I told him things after knowing him for two days I wouldn’t think to tell just about everyone I’ve known for eons. I can’t get him out of my head. In all my time I’ve never...” Another pause from Fabrizio as he shook his head. “I’ve never felt such things. Ever.”

Niccolò nodded his head. “Would you say that you love him?”

Loved him? Why, yes, maybe that was a good word, but it seemed simple. In all the words to have existed and the words yet to exist, would there have ever been one that could say exactly what he felt?

Fabrizio only nodded his head in response.

Thankfully, after a period of silence over the calm waves, Niccolò changed the subject.

“So, while you were doing things everyone finally decided on what kind of flowers to use for the summer solstice party. Actually, it’s probably better that you missed that. It was absolute chaos. We had some war between more lilies and more roses.”

Oh, my, yes. The summer solstice party. Where all the gods and such gathered in Olympus to celebrate the day, chatting, drinking, playing, and it wouldn't truly be family without occasional uncomfortable fighting. Fabrizio and Niccolò were regulars in organizing it.

Fabrizio chuckled. “It was that bad?”

“Oh, Fabrizio, dearest Fabrizio, have you seen your family? I've never felt more afraid of the gods."

“You’ve got a very point.”

The conversation flowed easily after this, discussing a few more things about the planned event and just how chaotic it got working with the gods and demigods to coordinate said event. Maybe it got onto complaining territory, but it all helped to ease Fabrizio’s mind, and he was eternally thankful to Niccolò.

By the end, Niccolò stood up. “I should go. Just curious before I try checking later, but are you going to be gone tonight again?”

“Yeah.” Fabrizio then sighed. He'd see Ermal again, and the thought of it gave him weird fuzzy feelings. But what to do? He had no clue. “I've been running on bad ideas so much that I’m not sure what I’m doing, where I’m going with this.”

He didn't realize he thought out loud until he felt a hand on his shoulder and, although he knew who the hand belonged to, he still turned his head to look at Niccolò bent down next to him.

“Follow your heart. It’s a good one.”

And then Fabrizio was left alone with those words carried by the breeze.

But maybe that was all he needed right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> imagine being in the middle of writing niccolo in a scene and then you have to watch sanremo  
> n e v e r a g a i n.
> 
> I love reading y'all's comments, still not sure what the hell I'm doing, but thank you for even a single read <3

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly the release of Ercole around this time was so convenient for this I'm almost in tears thinking about it
> 
> can i give the sexiest shoutout to the mm discord for literally everything including causing this au and supporting it? yes i fuckin' can and i fuckin' will, love you guys.
> 
> I honestly love this AU so much so far and I hope others enjoy the thought of Fabrizio living life wrapped in a bedsheet as I am and I'll go through blood sweat and tears to finish this. Even the smallest shared thoughts are appreciated greatly!


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